


Practice Makes

by Volant



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Kissing, Kissing Lessons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volant/pseuds/Volant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jaime decides to teach Brienne how to kiss, he doesn't expect actual feelings to get in the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She smelled of sweat and peaches. Peaches of all things. He’d have to talk to her about using a different shampoo. It was too distracting, too overpowering, and he couldn’t work distracted…he began to make a mental note, and then her body arched beneath his and she gasped his name.

He liked it when she did that, when she whispered into his ear in that low, breathy voice that just hinted at a smile or a laugh. He liked the way she tensed beneath his hands as they slid around her waist or up her thighs to let him know what she did and didn’t like, the way her blue eyes rolled sarcastically whenever he said something too clichéd, the way she kissed him back whenever their lips met, the way…the way…

“Jaime?” she hissed, and lifted her hands to his face, pulling him away from where he had diligently been sucking at her collarbone a moment ago. “Why did you stop? Is something wrong?”

He thanked the gods that the room was dark, or she might have noticed his face turn red. Had his heart always beat that fast?

“No,” he croaked. Gods, croaked like a damn frog. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…listen, could we pick this up a little later? I think I forgot. Something. Something important?” He cringed, waited for her to call him out on his blatant lies. Instead, she sighed and pushed him away, straightening her t-shirt and combing her fingers through her messed up hair. Had Jaime always found that sexy? She stretched when she stood up and the muscles that stretched in her back, on her arms, made Jaime’s throat go dry.

She slung her backpack over her shoulder and reminded Jaime that he had a track meet tomorrow, and not to sleep in too late because she wouldn’t wake him up again. She wouldn’t. But then she gave him that look, _the_ look, and he knew that if his alarm just happened to short out that morning, she’d be the one to burst into his room and roll him out of bed. Because they were friends, and “friends take care of each other.” And then she left. She left, and the door swung shut behind her and Jaime collapsed back onto his bed, muttering—“oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit oh shit oh shit,”—because the impossible had happened. He’d (no, he wouldn’t even think those words, couldn’t think those words) with Brienne. With innocent, honorable, good Brienne Tarth.

“ _Shit_.”


	2. Any Port In A Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne and Jaime have their first...encounter.

The first time they kissed, he was drunk and she was angry and it was a mistake.

Less than two weeks after his “accident” as she preferred to call it, and he’d let Tyrion drag him out of the house on the grounds that he “needed to loosen up about the whole thing.” Jaime likes to think that he only agreed because the cocktail of pain medications coursing through his system had impaired his judgement. He doesn’t ever admit that he went because he was too afraid to be alone with himself.

It was one of those wild frat house raves, the kind with loud music, warm beer and horny freshmen grinding against each other on every available surface. Jaime refilled his cup a dozen times before he realized that his brother was gone. He slid between warm bodies and stumbled over furniture and then he hit somebody for a reason he can never quite remember. One black eye later, he was scrolling through the contacts in his phone—looking for Tyrion, but he hit Tarth instead, and she was there before he’d finished slurring angrily into the phone, her strong arms lifting him up and practically carrying him off of the sticky lawn to where she’d parked her car.

Later she told him that she’d only been there because Sansa’d been following around some scarred up rugby player and needed somebody to play her wing woman. But she didn’t say much of anything then—just tossed him into the passenger side of the rusty pickup truck and told him to buckle up. As smashed as he was, he can still remember the way she gripped the steering wheel—so tightly her knuckles turned white—and cranked up the stereo whenever he tried to talk.

He’d seen Brienne upset a few times since then, but that’s the only time he can think of when she’d ever been really angry. They hadn’t been friends at that point—not really. The only reason Jaime had her number in the first place was because they’d had to work together on a (mandatory) class project in History 1010. It hadn’t worked out very well—they’d argued most of the time, called each other names. Sometimes he still wondered why he hadn’t deleted her number as soon as the class ended.

They arrived at Jaime’s apartment in silence. He’d dozed off somewhere between Main Street and the tracks, and only started awake when she undid his seatbelt and squeezed his shoulder. What happened next is still a blur. Somehow—somehow—he ends up with a fistful of her t-shirt in his hands and he’s too close to her, so close he can feel her breath on his cheek and see the scar along her jaw. And then it just happened. She pushed him away. Slapped him with that great paw of hers. Yelled at him to get out, and he laughed.

“C’mon Tarth, it’s just a kiss.” He licks his lips and grins. “Think of it as…a thank you.”

“Fucking shit, Lannister.”

“What?” he whined. “You act like this is your first…”

He paused and squinted through his drunken haze, taking in her flushed face, her hand clamped over her mouth, her wide blue eyes.

“Time…your first kiss? Holy shit Tarth, holy—“

“Would you shut up?” she lowered her hand, and Jaime could see her bottom lip quivering. “Just get out of the car and go home, for gods sake Jaime. I don’t have time for this.”

“Yeah,” he swallowed, and began fumbling with the door handle with his good hand. “Right.”

“Lean back,” she sighed, and leaned across his chest to pop the door open for him. “Do you want me to walk you to your door?”

“No, I’m—“ she was out of the car before he had time think up a good excuse.

“You’re a fucking mess,” she told him, slinging one muscular arm around his waist when he stumbled over the curb. “Why the hell were you even there tonight?”

“’S not like I had anything better to do,” Jaime slurred.

“You’re barely out of the hospital.”

“Exactly.”

“And you decide to go get hammered.”

“Right.” She shook her head. “Which number are you?”

“Sixty-nine.”

“Lannister.” She pinched his side. “What number?”

“Ow! Geez…it’s twelve, okay? Lighten up.”

“Hand me your keys.”

“Make me.”

“I will leave you right here, so fucking help me…”

“And I’m the pain in the ass…” Jaime muttered and dug his hand into his jacket pocket. “You’re one to talk, fuckin’ giant-ass—“ He broke off as Brienne’s elbow collided with his ribs.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a mean drunk, Lannister?” she asked as she unlocked the door to his apartment.

“Everyone I know,” he said, allowing her to lift him over the threshold. “Anyone ever tell you you’ve got nice eyes?”

“No.” She watched him settle onto the couch in front of the TV. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She threw the keys into a bowl on the counter. “Sweet dreams, Lannister.” She turned around and started to walk out.

He cleared his throat. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“What?”

“The name’s Jaime. Use it.”

"Sure," she said. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow..."

She sighed. "See you tomorrow, _Jaime_." 

Then, the door swung shut and he was alone in the dark again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reposting because I may have...accidentally...deleted this fic a while back.


End file.
